


finally forever

by Satine86



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Reunions, Romance, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: As she left her tent, her muscles aching and her head throbbing, the only thing that spurred her onward was the thought of seeing Claude.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	finally forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I recently finished the game and I just needed Claude and Byleth being Soft(tm). The reunion seemed like the perfect place for that, even though I'm sure everyone and their mother has probably written it. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Byleth was exhausted. Her day had started well before the sun was even a glimmer on the horizon as they prepared for battle; the routine of it was the only thing making her muscles move in the dim pre-dawn light. The routine of swinging her blade the only thing that kept her going forward as soldiers fell around, their foes turning the tide. 

She kept fighting despite her worry. She would keep fighting until they drew the last breath from her body. However, there came a moment when the tide turned in their favor, and Byleth’s dejection turned to hope turned to relief when she saw the reinforcements coming to their aid. Her spirits soared when she saw a familiar figure leading the charge. Still, the battle was far from over and it raged on into the evening hours. 

Even after the battlefield was cleared, and their enemies defeated, Byleth still had a long way to go before she could rest; before she could see Claude. There were debriefings and tribunals and countless decisions to be made, and arguments to be heard, and advice to be weighed.  
Battle was never easy, but the aftermath was harder still. 

It was well past sunset when Byleth finally made her way to where the Alymran troops were encamped. She had forgone a quick meal in favor of a quick wash to rid herself of the taint of war. As she left her tent, her muscles aching and her head throbbing, the only thing that spurred her onward was the thought of seeing Claude. 

She passed by troops and campfires, and was pleased to see the troops from Almyra were being welcomed by the troops of Fódlan, and she had a fleeting thought that perhaps Claude had finally realized his dream. 

His own tent was easy enough to find in all the chaos of post-battle celebrating, the flag flying from the anchoring pole giving it away. His arrival had not been a complete surprise, given the amount of letters that had passed between them since his departure for his first home, but his timing had been beyond impeccable. 

“It looks a little dower… for a king,” Lorenz commented behind her. 

“Not everyone can be as grand as you are, Lorenz.” Byleth could hear the grin in Hilda’s voice. 

They had volunteered to accompany Byleth on her little excursion, and she was rather thankful for that. The idea of stony faced guards following closely, and, worse yet, not leaving her alone was enough to make her temples pound with a headache. 

“True, Claude could never come close to my flare,” Lorenz said gravely. 

Hilda’s muffled giggles had Byleth pressing her lips together to hide a smile, it was nice that certain things remained the same. No matter how much time had passed.

As they drew closer to the tent, Byleth was doubly thankful for Lorenz and Hilda, because they both had the sense to make themselves scarce. Lorenz pretending to be drawn in by something or another, and loudly professing his interest to Hilda so that they may linger behind while Byleth felt her exhaustion melting away with each hurried step forward.

Any royal guards appeared to have been dismissed for the evening, and as Byleth slipped through the tent flaps there was nary a soul in sight. Save one. 

She spared her surroundings a quick glance, and realized they were surprisingly lush. A low table stood in one corner, with a light meal set out and ringed by thick pillows to sit on. More pillows were strewn about the tent, along with rugs and furs to soften the harshness of camping out of doors. Although that was as much Byleth surveyed before her eyes fell to the lone figure in the room.

Claude must have been waiting for her, judging by the way he stopped mid-step in his pacing and turned to look at her with a grin. He looked at ease, his armor gone and dressed in only a fresh pair of trousers and a clean shirt that he hadn’t even bothered to button up all the way. As he spread his arms in welcoming, his smile widened. 

“Hey, Teach,” he said, eyes teasing. 

Byleth sighed and rolled her eyes. Instead of responding, however, she closed the distance between them and very nearly crashed into him as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself as close as possible. In an instant she was enveloped by his arms, his cheek resting against her temple. He was warm and secure, and smelled of soap and fresh air. 

She took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Aw, I bet you say that to all the foreign dignitaries who gallantly rescue you on the battlefield.” His breath tickled her cheek when he spoke, voice husky despite his teasing. Byleth pinched his skin in retaliation to his comment. “Ow!” he laughed. 

“I’m being serious.”

“I know.” He dropped his head, tightening his arms around her. When he spoke again, his lips brushed against the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. “I”m glad I’m here, too.” 

Byleth wasn’t certain how long they stood together, just clinging to one another and basking in the other’s presence. She could have stayed like that for the rest of the night, her wariness ebbing away with each shared breath between them. Byleth tightened her grip on his shirt, fingers bunching in the fabric as if he might disappear if she let go. 

Idly, she wondered if that was how he felt when she disappeared for five years. One day she would ask him, but not now. Now was meant for happier things. 

“Have you eaten?” he asked. “There’s something on the table. It’s not a feast, we can leave that for later, but I promise it’s tasty.” 

Byleth shook her head, but made no move to step back and cross to the table in the corner. Instead she burrowed herself closer to Claude, tilting her head back to press her face to the bare skin where his neck and shoulder meet. Everything else could wait for the time being. This, right here with him, was what was most important to her.

He doesn't question her; doesn’t say another word in fact. Although he did brush an errant kiss against her head, the only part of her that his lips could reach. It was comforting and sweet, but not entirely what she wanted. 

Byleth pulled back and looked up at Claude, really studying him for the first time. His skin is darker, deepened to a golden bronze from the Almyran sun, and his hair is longer still, tied haphazardly at the nape of his neck. She thinks he looks a little older, the worry lines around his eyes just a little deeper. But he is just as handsome as ever. Perhaps more so, because now he is here with her and there will not be another reason to separate anytime soon.

His eyes are as bright as jewels as he looked down at her, skimming over her face as if committing it to memory. She wondered what changes he saw in her, and made a mental note to ask him later. Right now she doesn’t care enough to break the silence that has fallen over them. It’s a comfortable silence, but a charged one. 

Claude tilted his head as he looked at her, eyes trailing over her face, and a fond smile quirking his lips. She could feel his hand splay on the small of her back, warm and firm, while his other moved to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin, soft despite the calluses on his hands, and she very nearly shuddered at the contact. She wasn’t sure which of them moved first, or if they moved together as if drawn like magnets. Either way her vision swam with him until they were so close their noses were brushing, and their breath mingling. 

His lips hovered over hers, and she moved to close the scant space between them. Claude was quicker though, and instead pressed a kiss to her cheek. She wanted to be annoyed, but the tender, nearly reverent way he peppered her with kisses made her ache. Another kiss to her forehead, and then finally -- _finally_ \-- he captured her lips with his own. The kiss was slow, perhaps a little hesitant, as they found their way together again. 

After a while Claude slanted his mouth over hers, and then it was like no time had passed. Byleth pressed as close as possible to him, practically molding herself against him. The kiss was so many things wrapped up in one; a welcome home, a declaration… a promise. Byleth could feel her head swimming with it all. 

They pulled apart slowly, stealing quick kisses as they tried to catch their breath. Claude rested his forehead against Byleth’s. 

“What if,” he asked after a moment, “that inevitable victory feast was also a wedding feast?” 

Byleth pulled back to look at him, studying his face closely. He was serious, she knew. Not that promises hadn’t been made before he left, but she never thought it would be this soon. Although why not? Why not take the moments they have and wring every last drop of joy out of them.

So she nodded her head. A grin spreading across her face, as a matching one graced his. Then she captured his lips in another kiss, not as sweet this time; instead the kiss is fierce and searing. Byleth clasped her hands behind his neck, while his arms circled her waist. 

There was a niggling in the back of her mind. That as far as political marriages go it was too soon. Rushed, without the usual courting and fanfare that proceeds such a union. She could hear Hilda’s complaints at not having time to prepare for such a momentous occasion. She could hear Seteth’s soft tutting at their impatience. But as Claude danced them back to the large tasseled pillows propped in the corner of the room; as he sank down onto them, and gently pulled her down with him, she found she didn’t care about any of it.

She didn’t care about rules or propriety or whatever else people might whinge about. All she cared about was Claude, and the fact he was there, with her, and that for once they had time. His clever fingers plucked at the ties on her blouse, his equally clever mouth searing a path down her neck. 

They had all the time in the world.


End file.
